


Personal Lies

by FlashMountain



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Feelings, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Kissing, Light Angst, Light Smut, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstanding, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Post S2 pre S3, Smut, communication is key
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-27 12:22:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20760287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashMountain/pseuds/FlashMountain
Summary: He wasn’t stupid, Steve knew that dating a boy - dating Billy Hargrove, would be nothing like anything he’d done before. And he knew that Billy wanted to keep it casual, unlabelled. He knew all this, but it still hurt so much to get it thrown in his face.





	Personal Lies

Steve didn’t really know what his _thing_ with Billy Hargrove was, but there was no denying that there was a thing. It started as reluctant friendship back in March, when Billy mumbled out some kind of apology for the fight (that left Steve with a concussion and a scar on his forehead that his hair didn’t fully hide) in the freezing parking lot outside the arcade, while waiting for the kids. It probably said something about Steve how quickly he forgave the guy who beat the shit out of him not even six months ago, but he didn’t see the _point_ in wallowing. Didn’t see the point in much these days. So he told Billy that it was ok, and surprised himself by actually meaning it. They didn’t magically become best buddies, because Billy’s still an asshole and Steve was sure the apology was more a courtesy than an invitation. But it became less tense. They didn’t beat each others faces in every time they saw each other, which was something. They shared the occasional cigarette, sitting on the hood of the Camaro (_You better be fuckin’ careful with my baby, Harrington)_. They shared looks when the kids were twenty minutes late with no sign of showing up (_You know Harrington, when I was ten, I knew how to tell the fucking time)_. Steve couldn’t help but notice that Hargrove’s comments sounded lighter now, less bitter and angry and more teasing.  
  
When June rolled around, Billy was probably his best (if not only) friend. Tommy hardly spoke to him, and what’s the point of spending time with idiots who’s biggest problem was which party to go to and who to fuck? Sure, once upon a time Hargrove was one of those idiots, but Steve knows there’s more to him than anyone might think. They don’t talk about Billy’s _stuff_, just like they don’t talk about Steve’s. Another thing they avoided to acknowledge was the tension. It was different, but just as electric as it was back when they first met. Steve knew what it meant. At least to him. It didn’t freak him out, probably would’ve a year ago. When there’s different worlds and telekinetic girls and _monsters_ will flower shaped mouths, the prospect of liking a _boy_ doesn’t sound so strange. It wasn’t like Steve hadn’t thought of it, before Billy Hargrove. The idea of sharp edges and stubble and hardness instead of soft curves and delicate features. But his attraction to Billy still hit him like a train. ‘Cause he was still the guy who beat the shit out of him and he was _still_ the guy half the population of Hawkins wanted to sleep with. With everything he knew about Billy, he concluded he’d be _lucky_ if he didn’t punch the living daylights out of Steve if he even found out about Steve’s little _issue_. And that’s why Steve was so surprised when it was _Billy_ who made the first move.   
  
They’d been at Steves, passing a joint between them, sitting on the floor in his living room. In the back of his mind he could hear his mother complain about the smell, as if she was home enough to notice it. They’d been talking about stupid shit, more giggling than actually saying something. Steve let himself stare more than he would’ve sober, and Billy was staring back. Blue eyes meeting his, before wandering down to his lips. _Lips_. It struck him then how close they sat, basically breathing the same air. And Billy moved even closer. Slow enough for Steve to back away (which was insane, ‘cause all Steve wanted to do was to get as close as he could), but steadfast. The kiss was barely a brush of lips, a peck. Nothing like Steve thought Billy would kiss (all teeth and tongue and _filthy_, aggressive and sharp). Steve tilted his head, allowing Billy more access, showing him he _wanted it_. Billy answered by opening his mouth, letting Steve explore with his tongue. He could taste the weed and something he was convinced was just the taste of _Billy_. Hands were in his hair, tugging him closer, which Steve responded to with a _moan_ he couldn’t hold in if he tried. He’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the breathy groan Billy let out. They were horizontal on the floor after a while, Steve’s brain too fuzzy from the weed and Billy to know how that happened. Billy’s hands were roaming his back going lower, lower until they were kneading Steves ass. Steve had to break their kiss, panting. It was on the verge of too much, the feeling of Billy under him, hips moving up to meet his own, Billy’s hands forcing him down harder. Steve moved his head down to nip and lick on Billy’s exposed collarbone (When _wasn’t_ it exposed?), almost coming undone when Billy moaned his name at the feeling. He did come when Billy got his hands down his pants, under his underwear, feeling his hands on his _bare skin_. It should be embarrassing, how Steve came in his pants like a middle schooler, but it wasn’t. Not when Billy followed shortly after, still rutting against him. He was oversensitive and it was _too much_ and _not enough_. Steve had to force himself to roll off Billy, slumping down next to him on the carpet.  
  
“Holy _fuck_, Harrington”  
  
”Yeah. Holy fuck”  
__  
  
So yeah, there was a _thing. _And Steve was _fine_ with not knowing what it was or the rules of it or anything really. He was. Really. Billy was the one who set the terms, coming over when he felt like it and going when he felt like it. Steve couldn’t complain. He loved the attention Billy gave him, he loved the _fucking. _But that didn’t mean he didn’t want _more._ Steve wanted a relationship. Craved it. He wanted to protect and nurture and _feel._ He wasn’t stupid, he knew that dating a boy - dating _Billy Hargrove_, would be nothing like anything he’d done before (nothing like _Nancy_). And he _knew _that Billy wanted to keep it casual, unlabelled. Wanted nothing more but the desperate touches and kisses they shared the nights Billy sneaked out to the Harrington’s empty estate. He _knew_ all this, but it still hurt _so much _to get it thrown in his face.

Max needed a ride home from the arcade. Which was weird, because Billy _always_ picked her up without fail. It shouldn't be a big deal. But it was. And Steve was _worried, _okay? 

“Of course, yeah. Um. Is Billy okay?” Steve asked, trying (and failing) to keep his tone uninterested and monotone. Max rolled her eyes in that way, the way that made her look so much like her step-brother, and huffed.

”He’s _fine._ Just on a date. It’s gross, he put on his _best _shirt and everything. Spent probably three _hours_ on his hair!” Max was already turning away, walking over to his car where the rest of the kids were waiting impatiently. Steve couldn’t move. The thought, _oh. Billy’s seeing other people, _felt like a punch to the gut. He should’ve known. It was _stupid _to just assume that Billy wasn’t. Stupid to assume that Steve would be _enough._ Max pulled him out of his thoughts by waving her hands in his face.

”_Steve_! Are you coming or what?” She sounded impatient, and Steve would lecture her on _attitude problems_ if he didn’t have trouble breathing. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m going. Just. Do you know who Billy’s seeing?” Steve’s voice wobbled embarrassedly, and he hoped the kid would ignore it. She looked at him funny, but shrugged like _eh, what’ve I got to loose?._

“It’s some girl in his class or something. He said her name’s Heather. Can we stop talking about my loser brother and _go already?” _Steve nodded, not trusting his voice. _Of course _Billy was with _Heather. _Heather Holloway, with her pretty curls and warm smile and _body. _She was a nice girl, funny and sharp in a flirty way that made you want more. Morbidly, Steve wondered how Billy would do it. Play it nice, be the perfect gentleman? Or skip all the pretences and take her down to the quarry in his car and just _get on with it (_like he did with _Steve _last weekend)? Steve tried to push the thoughts away, for _safety’s _sake, as he drove the kids home. He barely registered how he got _himself_ home, but soon enough he was driving up his driveway to the (empty) house. 

After successfully switching on every light in the house, he tried to not just sit and mope. He _tried._ But he couldn’t stop the bitter taste on his tongue and the knot in his stomach. A part of him wants to forget it, wants to live on in blissful ignorance and continue his _thing_ with Billy unknowing of everyone else he has wrapped around his finger. But he couldn’t. Not after the fiasco with Nancy and Jonathan. He had ignored the signs back then, ignored everything he didn’t want to see. It only got him hurt (_so hurt_). He didn’t want a repeat if he could help it.

He spends his night on the couch, watching reruns of a show he didn’t know the name of and eating the cold pizza he found in his fridge. He _knows_ he could just warm it, but it seems like a lot of work Steve’s not willing to put in. It’s almost half past one when banging on the front door shakes Steve from his restless slumber. He scrambles around for his bat before remembering that he didn’t take it down from his room before settling on the couch. Fuck. He got up on unsteady legs, making his way to the entrance, trying to prepare himself for whatever might be on the other side. He opens the door, bracing himself and-

“Hey pretty boy, gonna let me in or what?” Billy Hargrove looks _stunning_. Dark blue shirt barely buttoned one button (_he put on his best shirt and everything), _jeans so tight it should be a federal offence. He’s grinning too, confident and unapologetic as if the world _belongs _to him. Steve can’t decide if he wants to punch or kiss it away. He lets Billy in because he’s _weak, _can’t resist him. He detours to the kitchen, instead of going to the living room or his bedroom like they _always _do. He knows Billy’s following him, can feel him as if it’s a sixth sense or some shit. He searches the fridge for beer just to stall for a little while longer, to figure out what the fuck he’s supposed to _say. _He doesn’t know how to feel, knowing that Billy came to _him _after a date. It makes his stomach churn. But a small part of him, _King_ _Steve_ feels smug, knowing that Heather couldn’t satisfy Billy enough. Billy chose to come back to Steve. He puts two on the kitchen island, not looking at Billy as he opened one and chugged half of it in one go. 

“You alright there Harrington?” Billy’s sharp voice cuts through, and Steve wants to scoff and bitch back at him. _Why do you care anyway? _

_“_Fine. It’s late. Can I help you, Hargrove?” Steve watches as Billy’s smile falters, knows it’s because his comment _hurt_. Steve hasn’t called him _Hargrove_ since May. 

“What the fuck’s got your panties in a twist? Jesus” Billy’s tense now, the edge in his voice barely disguised under a layer of sarcasm. 

“Nothing. Just wasn’t expecting you tonight” 

“And why the fuck not? You don’t want me here?” Steve almost wants to take everything back and forget it when he sees the way Billy’s gripping the edge of the counter, shoulders bunched up. But then again, why didn’t he expect Billy to show? Because he’d been out fucking Heather _fucking_ Holloway.

”It’s just” Steve takes a breath, steadying himself. “Max told me you had plans for the night” His voice sounded empty and fake, the way he’d talk to his parents and the guests they’d bring to the house to discuss _future plans. _

“And why the fuck would she know what I do at night, huh? Pray tell”. 

“Because you _told_ her. You were on a _date” _Steve’s voice catches at the last word, betrays him and shows Billy how _affected _and _hurt_ he is. 

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?” Steve can’t help but to roll his eyes. He doesn’t _get_ why Billy’s trying to hide it away and fucking lie to him, but then again. He’s always been _stupid_.

”You don’t have to pretend, Billy. It’s your fucking life. It’s not like you said that you wouldn’t see other people” Steve felt his eyes prickle, and tried to force the tears away with sheer will. Crying in front of Billy _fucking _Hargrove would be too much to fucking handle. 

“_What?_ Seeing other- _what__? _Steve. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not _seeing other people” _Billy took a breath, eyes trained to the ceiling as he continued. “I wouldn’t do that. You _know_ I wouldn’t do that. Right?” 

“How the fuck would I _know_ that? It’s not like you _told_ me. You’re barely around long enough after we fuck to talk about anything!” Steve’s raising his voice, exasperatingly moving his arms. He’s just so confused and _tired. _

“Not because I don’t want to! I _can’t _stay. Listen, I don’t know what _Maxine _told you but I’m not going around on dates when I’m-“

“She told me you took out Heather Holloway, okay! You couldn’t pick her up at the fucking _arcade_ ‘cause you were busy with Heather” Steve cut him off, and he _knows_ it’s rude and he _knows _Billy hates that but he doesn't _care. _

”Fucking Christ. I _was_ busy. With Heather but-“ Unbelievable. Steve laughed. He laughed because if he didn’t he’d cry.

“What the fuck, Billy? What was this whole fucking _conversation _for then? You can’t _lie _to me and expect me to just buy it like an _idiot_!” 

“It wasn’t like that! Just fucking listen to me!” They were both shouting now, facing each other on opposite sides of the kitchen island. “I _was_ with Heather today. But not like you think. We went down to the pool together, for a seminar. Because we’re gonna work together. At the fucking pool.” Billy was talking slow, calculating what to say. And Steve didn’t know what to think. Since when did Billy apply for a job? Why? Why didn’t Steve _know_ all this?

”What? Billy, I-. Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve’s voice was hoarse, even after he cleared his throat.

”I wanted to surprise you, okay? I wanted it to be a fucking surprise. To show you I’m not completely fucking useless” Billy was looking everywhere except at Steve, eyes trained on the painting of some kind of seashore on the wall behind Steve. 

“Shit. Billy, I don’t think you’re _useless. _I’m sorry. I should’ve- I don't know. I’m just sorry” Steve moved closer, aching to reach out. Not knowing if that was allowed. If he’d fucked it up.

“Don’t apologise. _I’m_ sorry. I should’ve talked to you. I guess I didn’t want to scare you off by talking about my _feelings_” Billy tried to laugh, a wet halfhearted chuckle. 

“I’m crazy about you, Billy. _Feelings_ aren’t really a problem for me” Steve smiled when Billy’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, even more when Billy took a step towards him.

”Yeah? Good. I can’t stop thinking about you, Steve. I-. You’ve had me since the beginning. I’m yours” He sealed his words with a kiss, a soft one. Just like the first they ever shared. 

“You’re mine. And I’m yours” Steve whispered back, before pulling him into another kiss, hands sliding up his shoulders and into Billy’s blond locks.

“Mine” Billy uttered against his lips, barely noticeable.

”Yours”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for making it this far! My current hobby is being in denial about how the writers threw away Billy’s character arc and development. Billy had so much potential. Thankfully there’s great authors who fix it with their own adaptions and stories. I thought I’d contribute with something of my own. Tell me what you thought! This is un beta’d, feel free to point out any mistakes.
> 
> (Title is from Personal Lies by Djo)
> 
> I don’t own any of the characters.
> 
> Find me on tumblr! @awickedplacethisis


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